Glimpses of the Past
by Cybra
Summary: A certain redheaded teenager looks through an old photo album.


Glimpses of the Past

Glimpses of the Past

By Cybra

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A/N: Okay, I'm all teary-eyed from just looking through old photographs from when I came home from the hospital to when I was about five. That's when I suddenly thought of this story.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, but the idea for this fic is _mine!_

The human mind is a funny thing. It can house great stores of information in such a relatively small space. Yet it can forget events, names, places, and people in a relatively short period of time. Good memories can often times be hidden behind bad.

Perhaps this is why humans are the only creatures who record their memories in journals and stories and photo albums. They wish to remember instead of forget. They want to hold on to a piece of the past; to hold on to loved ones that have passed on. Humans wish to be reminded of past events both good and bad.

In almost any human's opinion, memories are vital. After all, memories show a person how he or she came to become who he or she is at the present moment in time.

Some humans cling to their memories with a ferocity that would stun both non-human creatures and their fellow humans. They constantly regale others in "the good old days" while sometimes neglecting the fact that "the good old days" were not always good.

However, there are some humans who do not delight in constantly looking back. These humans prefer to look forward and try to put the past behind them.

Either way of thinking about one's memories has consequences both good and bad. The humans that cling to their memories may forget about the present while being so caught up in the past, but they understand history better and will often not make the same mistakes that happened in the past. The humans who try to ignore their past might live relatively free of guilt for past mistakes, but may be doomed to repeat these mistakes.

In any case, memories are strange in a sense that human beings generally value them as more precious than gold. As to why, nobody is quite sure.

One thing that humans are all quite sure of is that memories can strike at any time.

"Izzy, could you see if you can find the scrapbook I was working on?" Mrs. Izumi asked her adoptive son.

The redheaded teenager nodded and began to search the stacks of photo albums for the one that was still relatively empty. His mother had turned out to be a scrapbooking wizard. Using pieces of scrap paper, she could change a boring page of photographs into a masterpiece.

The teen's nose picked up that musty scent coming from paper that has been yellowed with age. He gently removed album after album until he found an old photo album that he must have seen a hundred times before, but had never bothered to look through.

Izzy frowned, setting the photo album aside. He would look at _that_ in a moment. Right now, he had to focus on the task at hand: locating that one nearly empty album.

He quickly located the album and took it back to his adoptive mother who thanked him and set to work adding in new pictures. He sat for a few minutes, simply watching as Mrs. Izumi used construction paper and special decorative hole-punches to make interesting backgrounds for the pictures. His mother's talent never ceased to amaze him.

The redhead stood and walked back to the shelf to retrieve the old photo album. Quietly, he took the old book to his room and sat cross-legged on his bed as he opened to the first page.

"This photo album belongs to Koushiro Izumi" had been written on the inside cover. He smiled at the familiar handwriting of his mother.

He focused his attention on the first page and stared.

The first picture was of a small redheaded baby being held in the arms of a brown-haired woman with blue eyes smiling at the camera. This woman was his biological mother. Izzy swallowed as he read the caption his adoptive mother had added for the page that had two more similar pictures: "1st day home from the hospital".

Slowly, he flipped through the pages. He looked at the pictures and read the captions. He saw pictures of himself with his biological parents, all of these pictures taken before he could remember. He saw the first pictures he had with his adoptive parents after he came to live with them.

These pictures were moments frozen in time. Mere glimpses of a past long buried in the deeper recesses of the redhead's mind.

Crystal tears from obsidian eyes slowly slid down his pale cheeks.

"Izzy?" came the nasally voice of his best non-human friend.

The human teenager glanced up to see the large red beetle gazing at him over the edge of his bed. Worried green eyes were presently fixated on him as two large talons rested on the bed itself, ready to help the large insect hop up onto the bed if the human allowed him to join him.

"Yeah, Tento?" the Izumi teenager asked.

"Are you alright?"

It was obvious that Tentomon had noticed his sadness and badly wanted to join his human friend. The redhead tilted his head and gave it a slight jerk backward, a silent signal to his friend. Tentomon pushed upward with his talons as he used his wings to aid him in flying to his human partner's side. He landed beside the Digidestined of Knowledge.

"I've been looking through some old pictures, Tentomon. Some _really_ old pictures."

The Digidestined teenager needed to speak no more than that. The Digimon of Knowledge understood perfectly. The insect Digimon understood that humans could become emotional over objects with sentimental value since Digimon like himself could do the same. Photographs were objects that humans seemed to treasure more highly than practically anything else.

"How old?" the beetle inquired.

"Since my first day home from the hospital until I was about five. Very old."

Tentomon looked at the human before him with some worry. It was not often that his best non-Digimon friend would become this emotional. He was unsure of what to do.

"You know something? These aren't even real events sometimes," Izzy stated, trying to sound as cool and logical as normal but not quite succeeding. "We often times stop and simply pose for a picture. I think that's kind of a fake reminder of something, but it's the way things are I guess. Then there are times when we get caught off guard or simply don't know the camera is even there to begin with." He sighed. "I like those pictures a lot better. It's more real. It's more of a glimpse back at the past than those pictures we posed for."

The Digimon beside him nodded in understanding. Memories and knowledge were important to the computer genius, and his Digimon partner understood that perfectly.

Before the redhead knew what was happening, two large talons wrapped themselves gently around him, giving him a hug. He stiffened for a moment, composing himself. Then he simply wrapped his arms around the insect, returning the hug.

The digital monster was not one of the cuddliest creatures around. His hard carapace was neither soft nor fluffy. He had no fur or feathers for the human to rub his face against like the other lucky Digimon who had human partners. The insect could not be squeezed like many of his fellow Digidestined Digimon. However, he offered a comfort that his human partner had never been able to explain to him.

The scrapbook lay aside, temporarily forgotten. Like all albums, between its front and back covers it held small glimpses of the past.


End file.
